


christmas through your eyes

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Religious Themes, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2019-01-30 08:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12649908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Yamapi wants to understand the appeal of Christmas. Jin shows him more than just the festivities.





	christmas through your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. kyuusei = salvation.

Lights blink on the tree, a rainbow of colors, but none shine as brightly as the stars in Jin’s eyes.

Yamapi watches him curiously, sensing his roommate’s enthusiasm for what is probably the first time. It’s their third Christmas as roommates, and each year Jin’s insisted on putting up a tree and decorations, but usually Yamapi just leaves him to it and indulges him with a noncommittal grunt when Jin asks him if it looks nice.

This year, Yamapi has grown to appreciate the way Jin’s face lights up much like the tree with each ornament, each piece of garland, and even each tangle in green cords and related smacks to the face by sharp pine needles. He’s never noticed before, but Yamapi hasn’t seen much of Jin’s face at all this year and tends to pay more attention when he’s around.

It’s only a matter of time before he’s decorating a tree across an ocean from him.

“Hey,” Yamapi says, casually, lifting unaffected eyes from his phone to watch Jin stretch behind the tree.

“I’m almost done,” Jin calls, his voice muffled by pine.

Yamapi frowns. “Nobody is even going to see the back of that,” he points out.

The branches shake with Jin’s silent laughter. “Not the point.”

“Then what _is_ the point?” Yamapi asks suddenly, his tone coming out more forceful than he intended. “Why does it matter if the back of the tree is decorated?”

Slowly, Jin pulls back to stare at Yamapi. “It’s not about what it looks like,” Jin says quietly. “It’s the act of doing it.”

Yamapi tries to find logic in this. “I don’t understand.”

“No offense, but you wouldn’t.” Jin turns to the tree, gives a nod of approval, and faces Yamapi with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Christmas is different here.”

“How?” Yamapi asks. “We put up decorations, exchange presents, and eat cake. How is it different?”

Jin just shakes his head. “It’s so much more than that, at least to me. I don’t really know how to explain it – it’s just a feeling I have while doing things like this. _This_ is Christmas.”

A few seconds pass where Yamapi looks at him, filling with an emotion he can’t identify right away. It’s not until he looks at the tree that he realizes what it is – jealousy. He’s not jealous of a tree; that would be absurd. What he is jealous of is the happiness Jin is experiencing from something as simple as decorating a tree, and after twenty-five years of simply exchanging presents and eating cake, Yamapi wonders what he’s been missing out on.

“Show me,” he finds himself saying. “I want to feel it, too.”

He thinks Jin is going to laugh at him, and that may have been his initial reaction, but then the corners of his lips are turning up in a genuine smile and Yamapi is hit with a pang of guilt. It must be incredibly lonely to experience something so joyous by yourself.

“Show me,” he says again, putting his phone away and standing up. “I just hook these ornaments and hang them on a branch?”

Jin’s looking at him like he’s never seen him before, but then his face relaxes into a laugh. “The tree already has enough ornaments. You should have said something before I was basically done.”

Narrowing his eyes, Yamapi folds his arms and eyes the tree. “It could hold some more.”

“I have a better idea,” Jin tells him, and Yamapi braces himself for the usual insanity that follows those words. “Christmas is mostly about tradition, and _as_ this is your first real Christmas, we should start one.”

“Okay,” Yamapi agrees. That doesn’t sound too bad. “Do you want me to stick the top of the tree up the angel’s butt this year?”

Jin rolls his eyes. “I have a friend in the states whose family always contributes one individual belonging to the tree each year. Anything small that you can fasten a hook to. The weirder, the better, to give the tree personality.”

Yamapi nods at that, then turns on his heel and jogs down the hall into his room to see what he could use. Most of his belongings are practical or material, which would probably defeat the entire purpose. He doesn’t know much about western-style Christmas, but he knows that designer jewelry and Japanese trinkets don’t show very much personality.

Then he sees it, one of the few souvenirs from past dramas that’s been collecting dust on a shelf for five years. He doesn’t even remember Akira anymore, a thought that makes him both sad and proud that he’s moved on from that stage of his life. He’s an adult now, a responsible one, one who works and socializes with other adults and doesn’t let himself get lost in childish dreams.

This all sounds good in his head, but when he returns to the living room with the handmade pig keychain, he can’t find the words to explain it to Jin.

“It’s pink,” Jin says, not bothering to contain his amusement. “The whole basis of your nickname. Perfect.”

“That’s not-” Yamapi starts, then cuts himself off when nothing follows in his mind. “I have a reason, but I don’t know how to say it.”

“It’s okay,” Jin tells him as he carefully peels a hook from the package and hands it to Yamapi. “As long as you understand it, it doesn’t matter if anyone else does.”

Yamapi nods and carefully hooks the personal ornament before placing it on the tree. “Where’s yours?”

“I can’t think of one right now,” Jin replies, and Yamapi turns to him in concern. “It’s okay! There’s still a week until Christmas. I have plenty of time.”

Possibilities rush through Yamapi’s mind – having known Jin for many years, he could make a whole list of objects that would show his personality. That’s one thing that Jin has overflowing.

“This is about you, anyway, right?” Jin goes on. “Do you feel anything yet?”

“I don’t know,” Yamapi answers honestly. “What does it feel like?”

Jin taps his finger to his chin. “Belonging. Believing.”

“I guess so.” Yamapi turns to the box with the angel in it. “Is it time for-”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jin says pointedly, reaching over to grab the box and present it to Yamapi. “You can stick the tree up her butt now.”

It’s a fun idea in theory, but after nearly knocking the tree over by putting it into practice, it takes both of them and a jungle gym of very unsafe end tables and chairs to even make contact.

“It’s crooked,” Jin says.

“I don’t care,” Yamapi growls.

Jin does a very bad job of hiding a smile. “Done!” he announces.

“Is that it?” Yamapi asks, disappointed. “Isn’t there more to Christmas than this?”

“To Christmas, yes,” Jin replies. “That’s just the tree. Did you want to see more?”

“I want to see everything,” Yamapi says stubbornly. “Show it all to me.”

Any doubt he’d had about this impulsive decision fades away at the heartfelt look in Jin’s eyes. For a second he thinks Jin is going to hug him, which would be fine, but instead he turns his attention to the tree and Yamapi watches the colors dance in his eyes.

“Okay,” Jin finally says, after so long that Yamapi forgot whether he actually asked a question or not. “This year, I’ll share with you the true meaning of Christmas.”

Yamapi hugs him anyway.

*

“This is a bad idea,” Yamapi thinks out loud, although he’d purposely waited until the plane was taking off just so Jin couldn’t turn around and take them home.

“It’ll be _fine_ ,” Jin assures him from the next seat. “You’ll be back in plenty of time for Music Station Super Live. I didn’t decorate a tree to wake up on Christmas morning somewhere else.”

“‘You’,” Yamapi repeats, focusing on the one word as he drags his eyes away from the rapidly-disappearing scenery. “Are you not performing this year?”

Jin sucks his lips into his mouth briefly. “No. I won’t be at Countdown, either.”

The tension in the cabin air around them signals the end of the conversation, so Yamapi just leans back and watches as the ground below turns into blue sea. “Where are we going, anyway? L.A.?”

“No, L.A. is too commercialized,” Jin tells him. “If I were going to take you somewhere tourist-y, it would be New York City. Their holiday decorations are amazing.”

Yamapi waits for a second, then nudges Jin with his arm. “Well? Where are we going, then?”

“Phoenix, Arizona,” Jin answers.

Yamapi blinks. “Arizona? What’s in Arizona?”

“Nothing,” Jin says fondly, and for a second Yamapi thinks he’s lost his mind. “That’s the beauty of it.”

“Are there even Asian people in Arizona?” Yamapi asks skeptically.

“Not many,” Jin admits. “But it’s cool – I checked the Facebook stats before we left. We only have one fan in the whole state, and she can’t be that crazy.”

Yamapi accepts this and settles back for the long flight. There’s something about the roaring engine of an airplane that just knocks him out, and the next thing he knows it’s several hours later and Jin’s hair is in his face. They have to look ridiculous, sleeping on each other like that, but the plane is cold and Jin is warm and Yamapi’s just glad he didn’t wake up in Jin’s _lap_ this time.

Sky Harbor International is a madhouse, people upon people rushing to and from their destinations for holiday travel. The airport is decorated accordingly with appropriate music blaring through the terminals, and all Yamapi can do is hold onto the back of Jin’s coat as Jin navigates the English (and Spanish) signs to weave them through the crowd.

The last thing Yamapi wants is to be lost in a strange American city with weird mountains and creepy designs on the sides of the freeways.

It’s also unnaturally warm, both shucking their bulky winter coats after renting a car and attempting to leave the airport. There are about a hundred freeways and they must have made ten circles before they found the one they needed to be on, which is of course backed up due to road construction. Yamapi stares out the window, watching the desert landscape and fake palm trees crawl by as the other drivers honk and cut each other off.

One of Jin’s American friends has a winter home in Scottsdale, which he’s not using this year and loaned out to Jin last minute. Yamapi quickly learns that Scottsdale is the snobby part of town; at least it looks snobby with all of the houses built the same with perfectly manicured lawns. He hopes he doesn’t have to find this particular house on his own, because he would be wandering for hours.

“I made a list,” Jin’s saying as they step inside. Yamapi notices that they both automatically kick off their shoes and hides a smile. “First we’re going to the mall, because I need some clothes.”

Yamapi looks longingly at the bed in the guest room as he drops his bag on the Navajo-patterned bedspread. Traffic isn’t much better, but thankfully they don’t have far to go this time.

Scottsdale Fashion Square looks like someone threw up Christmas all over the place. But underneath it all, the stores are trendy, which occupies the two fashionistas well into the afternoon. Yamapi is fairly certain they won’t be able to fit all of their new clothes into their carry-ons, but that’s what luggage is for.

“Shouldn’t we be buying presents for others instead of spoiling ourselves?” Yamapi asks as they wait in line at Eddie Bauer.

Jin just shakes his head. “You still don’t get it.”

“What?” Yamapi asks, starting to get annoyed. “Christmas is about giving, I know that much.”

He gets no reply, just a straightened back to follow as Jin clearly leads him across the mall with a destination in mind. He hears the sound of children’s voices before he even sees the store, which is visible as soon as they turn the corner.

“The Build-a-Bear Workshop?” Yamapi reads skeptically.

“It doesn’t have to be a bear,” Jin tells him. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Standing in line with brats whining in a mixture of both English and Spanish is not Yamapi’s idea of a good time, but Jin’s face makes it worth it. With each step of their bear-building process, Jin looks fascinated and happy, just like the other kids in the store. Somehow it makes him just as cute as them, too.

“Why did we have to get a penguin, anyway?” Yamapi asks when they get to the stuffing machine.

“It’s not a penguin,” Jin corrects him. “It’s a [puffin](http://img688.imageshack.us/img688/5344/puffinpin.png).”

Then Jin places the outer part of the puffin on the machine, turns it on, and almost freaks out when the machine starts pumping stuffing into it. Yamapi has to cover his face to keep from laughing at the way Jin has to hold the puffin open to fill it. It’s not exactly a G-rated sight, and he thinks Jin realizes that too with the way his face is turning red.

“I see why you wanted to come here now,” Yamapi teases him afterward, and Jin elbows him as they continue down the line. They dress it in an argyle top and checkered pants that completely clash with each other, which reminds Jin of Nakamaru and Yamapi of Massu.

When they get to the sound booth, they both immediately point to the monkey sound. There is no doubt in Yamapi’s mind who they are thinking of there.

Sadly, the workshop doesn’t have a fedora, but the saleslady mentions that they could probably get one at Baby Gap. Jin seems to be satisfied with that and they split the cost, wading through the crowd of children still waiting their turn with the puffin secure in Jin’s arms.

Yamapi catches a little boy pointing at them and saying something as they leave, and he knows enough English to know that it wasn’t nice. The fact that Jin is walking faster confirms his suspicions.

“What did he say?” Yamapi asks. He has to rush to catch up with Jin’s even strides. “Did he recognize us?”

“No,” Jin replies firmly without stopping.

Yamapi grabs his arm and halts him in the middle of the mall. “So what did he say?”

“Something very rude,” Jin says, looking at the floor. “I don’t want to repeat it in Japanese.”

Yamapi’s face falls as he notices Jin clutching onto the puffin. “I’m hungry,” is all Yamapi says, rubbing his stomach for effect. “Let’s go somewhere else to eat. There are too many people here.”

Jin looks at him with grateful eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

*

The ride back home is silent, the sounds of reggatone doing nothing to cut the tension in the air. Yamapi has a pretty good idea what that kid said about them, but what he doesn’t know is why Jin is affected by it. In their line of work, accusations like that are inevitable.

It’s not that late, but the winter sky makes it look later. Yamapi wonders if they’re going back to the house. He stares out the window and sees nothing of interest, just buildings and Christmas decorations and other things that are meaningless because Jin is upset.

“I saw an ad at the mall,” Yamapi speaks up, feeling like he’s in middle school again giving an oral report. “For something called Zoolights. That sounds festive.”

“Yeah,” Jin says noncommittally. “My friend says it’s just a display of zoo animals with lights on them. I’m sure it’s nice to look at, but not really Christmas.”

“You’re confusing,” Yamapi says bluntly.

A few seconds later, Jin’s shoulders shake, and Yamapi realizes he’s hiding a laugh. Suddenly the atmosphere is _much_ better, and Yamapi feels relaxed as they drive into a subdivision of houses that don’t look anything like Jin’s friend’s. In fact, three of Jin’s friend’s houses could fit into these mansions.

“Where are we?” he asks, eyes widening as the ostentatious displays of lights and Christmas themes.

“My friend told me this neighborhood was famous for its decoration wars,” Jin replies. “Apparently their community has a contest and offers a prize. So the residents always try to out-do each other.”

“Wow~” Yamapi mutters as they pass by a full-size replica of Santa’s toy factory, complete with a functioning assembly line that goes around the exterior of the house.

That’s nothing compared to the house on the corner, though. Yamapi thinks they have an unfair advantage because they have more lawn to cover, but basically anything that can be associated with Christmas lights up the whole street. There is Santa and his reindeer on the roof, fake snowmen in the yard, and some people in a barn structure with a baby in a box up by the porch. Yamapi has seen it before, but he never really knew what it was for.

“This must be the guy who’s won for the past two years,” Jin goes on. “He always uses the money to pay for burgers and beer, and invites the whole neighborhood over for a barbeque.”

“That’s nice,” Yamapi says. “What’s the story with the baby in the box?”

Jin almost swerves as he looks at Yamapi in disbelief. “You don’t know?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you.” Yamapi narrows his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jin says, looking sheepish. “I just thought everyone knew. It’s called the nativity scene, from the bible. The baby Jesus was born on Christmas Day and all. It’s a religious thing.”

“Ah,” Yamapi replies. “I’m not very religious.”

“I think it’s interesting,” Jin tells him. “Religion is kind of like Christmas, in a way. It’s more about the feeling you get from believing it.”

“Then you should show me that, too,” Yamapi demands. “I know a little bit, but…”

“Hmm,” Jin draws out. “I actually think I saw a sign… hold on.”

He navigates the rest of the way through the neighborhood, barely glancing at the decorations. Yamapi, who would have been plastered to the window had it actually been up – he still couldn’t get used to this spring weather at the end of December – abandons the scenery for the determined look on Jin’s face.

They pull back out onto the main road and drive a bit before Jin declares “aha!” and turns into a church. The parking lot is packed and Yamapi notices the signboard lists an event at 7:30pm, which is in just a few minutes according to the clock on their rental.

“Lucky~” Jin says happily as he parks in the back. “It says there is a nativity play here tonight. It will be in English, but you should be able to pick up most of it. And I’ll translate anything important.”

“You don’t have to-” Yamapi starts, although he’s not sure if he’s protesting because he should know enough English to get by or because Jin’s offering to go through a lot of trouble for him.

The car doors slam behind them as they get out. “I do, because I want you to understand it.”

Instead of arguing, Yamapi focuses on the church and the complete strangers they’re about to join. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“Churches are open to everyone!” Jin says. “That’s kind of the point. They may load us up with a bunch of pamphlets and shit, but they’ll definitely let us in.”

“Okay,” Yamapi says uncertainly, following as they nod their heads at the men standing outside to hand them programs. “Where do we pay?”

“I don’t think we have to pay,” Jin theorizes, looking around. “There’s probably a place to give donations or something.”

The concept of not paying to see a play baffles Yamapi, but he keeps walking with Jin into the auditorium where they pick a pair of seats and settle in for the show.

The look on Jin’s face when he realizes that it’s a _children’s_ play will forever be etched into Yamapi’s memory. It makes him feel warm inside and he hopes that Jin will be able to marry and make his own babies sometime soon.

Thankfully the program has the script inside it, because the children fumble and forget their lines and nobody really cares because it’s so adorable. What Yamapi notices first is the diversity of the kids – although there doesn’t appear to be any Asians – and how Mary and Joseph are Mexican and black. The doll they use for the baby Jesus, ironically, is white.

It’s easy to follow with the program, because Yamapi can read English better than he can understand it, and he only has to ask Jin to translate a few words. But mostly he watches the play, how the parents-to-be rely on the angels and praise the higher power. Jin’s right – it has to do with _believing_. Everyone believes that this baby is going to be the next messiah, so they are excited about his birth. Most everyone, anyway.

“So what did you think?” Jin asks on their way out. “According to Christianity, that’s how the tradition of Christmas began.”

“I feel…” Yamapi begins, pausing as he searches for the right word. “Enlightened.”

Jin’s face lights up again. “I’m glad.”

The donation booth is by the front door and Yamapi searches in his wallet. He doesn’t have any cash but Jin does, handing over a generous amount as they bow their heads at the collectors and thank them for the show. As they walk back to the car, Jin completely ignores Yamapi’s promises to pay him for half of it.

But he lets him buy the Filiberto’s on the way home.

*

Yamapi’s first thought is that the desert shouldn’t be this cold. His second is along the lines of “what the fuck am I wearing?” Wood sandals that aren’t in any way Japanese, layers of loosely-hemmed fabric, and- a beard?

“What the-” Yamapi starts to mutter, then hears some agonized groaning followed by creative swearing. He looks to his left to see Ohkura with a very unimpressed look on his face, probably because he’s carting Jin on his back.

Yamapi’s eyes widen at the sight of Jin. His hair is braided and pulled tightly around his head, a little like Princess Leia, his face clean-shaven and somehow managing to _shine_ in the moonless night.

He is also very, very pregnant.

“What the-” Yamapi starts again, nearly dropping the lantern and getting twisted in his beard as he flails. “How did this happen?”

Jin sighs and even Ohkura rolls his eyes. “I _told_ you,” Jin says sternly. “The ArchAngel Nishikido came to me and said ‘upon to you a child will be born’ or some shit. The next thing I know, I have this _thing_ growing inside me.”

“A likely story,” Yamapi roars. He’s not sure why he’s so pissed off, just that he is. “Who’s the father, huh? Because it sure wasn’t me!”

“Fuck you!” Jin screams. “I haven’t been with anyone back there, you know that!”

“People just don’t impregnate themselves!” Yamapi yells back.

Jin snorts. “It’s an immaculate conception, idiot. I’m having the son of Tegod.”

That’s it. Yamapi stomps away, completely aware that he’s acting like a five year old but he could really care less. He doesn’t even know where he is, only that there are all of these stars shining brightly enough to blind him as he tries to figure out his location.

Then one of the stars comes crashing down and knocks him backwards.

“Moron,” a familiar voice grumbles, and Yamapi feels safer already. “You can’t just leave him like that.”

“He’s with Ohkura, he’ll be fine,” Yamapi says stubbornly.

“Ohkura is an ass,” Ryo spits, his wings flapping angrily as he grabs for Yamapi’s hand to yank him up.

“Whoa,” Yamapi says in awe, tripping over himself as he stares at Ryo’s wings. “Are you a fairy?”

“ _Angel_ ,” Ryo hisses. “I speak the word of Tegod. He has chosen you two to bring the next savior into this world.”

Yamapi winkles his nose. “Why us?”

“Fuck if I know.” Ryo shrugs. “Personally I think that shepherd Kato would have a smarter child.”

Kato’s one of those guys whom nobody likes but everyone would appoint to be in charge. Yamapi is inclined to agree with Ryo.

“Go!” Ryo yells, kicking Yamapi in the butt until he’s heading back the way he came.

“Pi,” Jin greets him, an uncharacteristic worry on his face as he clings to Ohkura’s neck. “You came back.”

Yamapi scuffs at the snow. “Yeah. Sorry for calling you a whore.”

“It’s okay,” Jin replies, his grin warming up the night. “I would be a jealous bitch if you got knocked up by Tegoshi, too.”

Yamapi smiles and takes his hand, walking alongside the hunched-over Ohkura as they head into town. The ancient-looking sign says ‘Bethlehem: No Vacancy’.

“No vacancy?” Jin repeats in Japanese. “But the baby will come tonight!”

“Must be a convention or something,” Ohkura grumbles. “Or maybe a pop concert. Those always sell out the inns.”

“Where will we stay?” Yamapi asks, his calm starting to slip. “Jin’s going to burst soon!”

Jin makes a face. “Can you not say it like that…”

“There’s a stable over there,” Ohkura says, pointing. “At least there’s a roof.”

Apologetically, Yamapi looks at Jin’s pout. “It’s the best we can do.”

“Okay, fine, just hurry.”

Ohkura hitches him up further and Yamapi rubs Jin’s hand comfortingly as they sneak into the stable and settle back on the hay. Jin’s belly is huge and Yamapi makes a shocked noise at the way he can visibly see the baby kicking.

“He’s gonna be a soccer player like his daddy,” Jin says fondly, then passes out.

The next hour is surreal, screaming and crying and _magic_ , and Yamapi’s eyes get starry when Jin holds the tiny splotchy baby.

“Ryo-chan said I had to name him Kyuusei, but I don’t want to,” Jin mumbles softly.

Ohkura scarfs down the rest of the food in the manger and stuffs some hay into it. “Here, put him in this.”

Carefully Jin places the baby Kyuusei in the manger, tearing off part of his robe to wrap around him. Yamapi kneels next to him, feeling useless and wondering what he should do, grateful when the stable door opens to shine an abnormally bright light on a large group of strangers.

Upon closer scrutiny, it’s just Uchi and Kusano leading the remaining members of KAT-TUN with… leashes. Yamapi raises an eyebrow but Jin looks unfazed, and Yamapi’s focus shifts to exactly what they did in their spare time when they were all together.

“See, I told you,” Koki growls, shoving Taguchi over to be closer to Kusano. “There’s a fucking baby.”

Kame shoves Uchi out of the way to jump at Koki, but luckily Uchi stops him with a firm tug on his leash and Kame falls breathless. “Don’t swear in front of the New Lord, asshole,” Kame chokes out.

He calms down when Uchi pets him before grabbing his hair and shoving his head down in respect with the rest of the sheep.

“Let’s go tell everyone!” Kusano declares, tossing Jin and Yamapi a V before leading the herd back into the night.

“What the fuck…” Yamapi starts, then falls silent at the next three guys to stride into the stable.

These visitors are unmistakable, even underneath the facial hair as they chat boisterously in Kansai-ben and grin infectiously at the new parents. “Congratulations on your New Lord!” they chime in unison.

Jin grins. “Thanks!”

“We come bearing gifts,” Hina says loudly, presenting a small box. “Myrrh.”

“Frankincense,” adds Subaru, holding out his own box.

Yoko dumps a pile of coins. “Gold!”

Yamapi and Jin’s eyes grow wide. “Whoa~”

The baby Kyuusei and Ohkura snore lightly.

“Good luck!” the three wise men exclaim, bowing before fist-punching the air.

Then they leave.

“I want to buy a new donkey,” Jin says as he counts the gold.

Ohkura kicks him in his sleep.

“I wonder what that light is,” Yamapi mumbles curiously, stumbling to his feet to check it out.

It’s a star, shining brighter than anything Yamapi has ever seen before, even Jin’s bling in their other life. He squints to see more and recognizes that the light is coming from two more angels – Koyama and Massu, the latter of whom is grinning big enough to illuminate the land for miles.

Koyama sees him and flails to the ground, his expression turning concerned as he grabs Yamapi’s hand. “You must leave here! Tonight! The evil King is coming to kill the baby Kyuusei.”

“Kill?!” Yamapi screeches. “Why? He’s just a baby!”

“He threatens the evil King’s throne,” Koyama explains. “Go to Egypt! My friend Jungmin is a farmer there. He will give you all shelter.”

Yamapi nods, his feet frozen in place until Koyama flails again and he runs back inside. “Come on, we have to go.”

“What?” Jin asks, his head shooting up from where he’d been cooing at the baby. “We can’t, I just-”

“The King is coming to kill Kyuu-chan!” Yamapi shouts. “We have to go!”

Hurriedly, Jin grabs the baby and kicks Ohkura, who gives him the finger and snuggles with himself in the hay.

“Forget him,” Yamapi says, reaching for Jin’s arm. “Come on.”

And so they follow the blinding star in the direction that Yamapi assumes is Egypt. Except that halfway there Yamapi remembers that Jungmin is Korean and Koreans are scary, so he relocates them back to their hometown and the pasture of an old friend.

Kato rolls his eyes at them, but he lets them in.

Back in Bethlehem, King Koichi and his cackling minions Maruyama and Yasu invade the stable with weapons drawn. When all they see is the sleeping Ohkura, Koichi swears while Maru and Yasu kneel next to the beautiful creature.

Getting some new ass is always a perk to failing.

*

“I’m never eating Mexican food before bed again,” Yamapi grumbles as he bumps into the hallway walls on his way out to the living room.

Jin’s sprawled out on the sectional couch, stuffing his face with donuts and looking very not pregnant. Yamapi hopes Jin mistakes his relieved sigh as a yawn.

“Dunkin’ Donuts,” Jin announces.

“What’s Christmassy about that?” Yamapi asks.

Jin swallows a big mouthful of Bavarian Kreme. “Nothing. They’re delicious and have a drive-thru.”

Yamapi’s nose leads him to the kitchen, where there is coffee. He returns to the other room, picks the least fattening-looking donut, and flops on Jin’s legs.

“ _Ow_ ,” Jin grunts. “I thought you were dieting. It’s not working.”

Bouncing a few times in retaliation, Yamapi gives Jin the finger because his mouth is full.

They eat in silence until Yamapi drains his coffee and looks longingly towards the kitchen. Maybe if he tries hard enough, the pot will come to him.

Jin takes one look at his face, rolls his eyes, and kicks him as he sits up and grabs their mugs. “Lazy.”

Yamapi snorts and sits back with another donut. “So what are we doing today?”

“I don’t know,” Jin calls back. “We did most of the things on my list yesterday. I was going to show you how some other cultures here celebrate Christmas, but the Internet tells me it’s the same.”

“Baby in a box?” Yamapi guesses.

“Basically.” Jin returns and holds out Yamapi’s mug of steaming hot coffee for him to take. Right now, Yamapi kind of loves him a little. “The Mexicans call the baby Jesus the Lamb of God, so instead of an evil King there’s a wolf who follows the shepherds because he thinks it’s a real lamb. But then he sees that it’s a baby and leaves it alone.”

Yamapi is really glad they hadn’t watched that version last night.

“And the Native Americans picked up the tradition from the Europeans,” Jin goes on. “They probably don’t do the whole Jesus thing, but they put up a tree and exchange presents. It seems more traditional than Japan, anyway. There’s a few reservations close to here, but I couldn’t find anything particularly Christmassy going on.”

“So we’re just going to hang out today?” Yamapi asks. “Fine with me. I feel kind of awful from that burrito last night.”

Jin laughs. “Oh, Fili-B’s. There are some clubs around here, but we didn’t come here to party. We could have gone to L.A. for that.”

Yamapi thinks about going back to sleep, never mind that it’s bright and sunny outside and he’s finishing off his second cup of coffee. This is like a vacation, he justifies. He should be relaxing.

“There is one thing we could do,” Jin says deviously, and Yamapi doesn’t like the look on his face.

That look is how Yamapi ends up back in the kitchen, hand-mixing a bowl of goop with flour in his hair. “Don’t they sell the pre-made rolls of cookie dough at the store?”

“It’s not the same,” Jin says as he beats an egg. “It’s about the experience.”

“My arm hurts,” Yamapi whines.

Jin flicks more flour at him. “You would make a shitty housewife.”

“I would buy a roll of dough at the store!” Yamapi shoots back, angling the spoon so that some of the mixture flies out and hits Jin.

Jin grabs the closest thing to throw back at Yamapi, which happens to be an egg.

As the yolk runs down Yamapi’s nose, he silently declares war. Jin may have eggs, but Yamapi has a sink with a detachable faucet on his side, and a few minutes later finds them covered in caked-on flour and egg as Jin tries to wrestle out of being whacked with the mixing spoon.

It’s Jin who slips in the rapidly-forming mess on the floor and pulls Yamapi down with him, the two of them picking right up where they left off and rolling around the linoleum as each one tries to pin the other down. They’re yelling and laughing and Yamapi feels like he’s twelve years old again as he catches glimpses of the sparkle in Jin’s eyes, the one he had when they really were younger and didn’t have such adult things to worry about.

That thought has him faltering in his defense, and he ends up the one on his back with all of Jin’s weight on his arms and legs. “I win!”

Yamapi looks up at him, breath wheezing as he calms down only to hitch when he sees the change in Jin’s eyes. He doesn’t know if it’s just how Jin is or if it’s because they’ve been friends for so long, but Yamapi has always been able to read Jin’s emotions like they’re written on his forehead. His eyes are so expressive that even oblivious Yamapi can see through them into whatever Jin is hiding inside.

And right now, Jin’s looking at him with fond eyes, soft and kind of heartbreaking for reasons Yamapi doesn’t quite understand. He feels compelled to hug him, but Jin gets up first, lifting his fingers to his hair and making a face of disgust.

“I claim the master spa bath,” is all Jin says, slipping as he tries to get up.

Yamapi makes it to his feet first and grabs Jin’s arm to help him. “That tub is big enough for six people. Christmas is about sharing.”

He expects Jin to argue, but all he does is laugh. “Fine, but since I won, you have to wash my hair.”

It’s not that much different from an onsen, except the strong jets and actual washing. Yamapi has to scrub to get the clumps of egg and flour out of Jin’s hair, but Jin doesn’t seem to mind at all. He keeps leaning back and making these dubious noises of contentment, which has Yamapi continuously pushing him back up and rolling his eyes.

“There,” he finally says, running his fingers through Jin’s hair one last time.

Jin falls back against him, head on his shoulder and heavy-lidded eyes unseeing. “Feels good.”

“I bet,” Yamapi grumbles, shoving him over so he can start on his own hair.

His hands are smacked away and his hair is taken into strong hands. He can’t help but close his eyes and give in to the sensation, even zoning out a little as Jin massages his head. No wonder Jin had kept leaning back; Yamapi’s ready to fall asleep with the rhythmic motions of Jin’s fingers and the comfort that comes from his hair gradually becoming clean again.

Yamapi thinks he actually does fall asleep for a bit, because suddenly he feels Jin’s heartbeat against his back and realizes that his forehead is pressed into Jin’s throat. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jin says casually. “I know I’m _that_ good.”

The bench seems colder as Yamapi snorts and slides a comfortable distance away. “I could stay in here all day.”

“Me too,” Jin agrees, stretching out now that he doesn’t have Yamapi in his lap. “But we should probably clean up the kitchen.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that too,” Yamapi says.

Neither one moves.

*

The sun is about to set by the time the kitchen is clean and the cookies are in the oven, which makes Yamapi feel like it’s been a lot longer than just a few hours. But it’s still early, even if Yamapi’s starting to doze off in the recliner as Jin flips through the digital cable stations.

“‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is on,” Jin scoffs.

“Which one is that?” Yamapi asks sleepily. “Where the guy is shown what life is like without him, or where Scrooge is shown what life will be like if he keeps being a douchebag?”

“The former,” Jin answers. “The other one is ‘A Christmas Carol’.”

“Ah,” Yamapi says, his eyes still closed. “Are we watching it?”

“No,” Jin says firmly, and Yamapi peeks through his eyelids to see Jin’s jaw set. “I’ve had enough of that this year.”

“Jin.”

“Sorry.”

It takes a lot of effort, but Yamapi hurls himself out of the chair and onto the couch where Jin is. He throws his arms around him in a lazy hug, then punches him in the arm. “Don’t be like that.”

Jin rubs his arm, but Yamapi can tell that it doesn’t really hurt. “‘Elf’ is on. Let’s watch this,” is all he says.

Yamapi stays right where he is as he watches Will Farrell in tights traipse around New York City. He catches bits of the English and thinks it’s cute, but Jin keeps laughing and that’s enough to make him happy that they’re watching it.

At the end of the movie, a piercing noise has them both jumping up and racing into the kitchen. Smoke billows from the oven, and Yamapi glances around frantically for a fire extinguisher until he realizes that nothing is actually on fire.

There are just twelve very black cookies in the oven.

“Shit,” Jin hisses as he pulls them out and turns the oven off. “We forgot.”

“We’re both shitty housewives,” Yamapi adds.

Jin tries to glare at him as he waves his arms to disperse the smoke, but he ends up laughing.

The smoke alarm is still going, and neither one of them can figure out how to turn it off. Jin mentions that usually the fire department is alerted if the alarms go on too long and Yamapi just grabs it with both hands, effectively ripping it out of the wall and halting the noise with a deafening silence.

They both stare at the device until Jin places it on the counter and returns to airing out the kitchen. Finally they just leave the windows open and head out for dinner, which is the KFC around the corner. Yamapi is starting to think that he might have a problem fitting into his shiny NEWS pants when he gets back.

On the way back to the car, they notice the moon. It’s low in the sky, abnormally large, and orange, cut off by a mountaintop that makes it look like the setting sun in the east. Yamapi stares at it for so long that Jin just pulls out his chicken and starts eating it right there next to the car, utilizing the trunk to dip. Absently Yamapi eats too, his eyes drawn to the moon as lyrics run through his head. He wonders if he’ll be able to remember them when he goes back to work.

They drive in comfortable silence, cruising through a nearby subdivision to see their Christmas decorations when Jin notices them from the main road. But their route is blocked by a group of people in Santa hats and flip-flops who are congregating in the street holding open books in front of them.

“Carolers!” Jin exclaims, and there’s that childlike excitement again. “Let’s go sing with them!”

“But I don’t know the-” Yamapi starts, but Jin’s already out of the car.

“Hey,” he’s calling out as he jogs up to the people. “Can we sing with you? We really want to.”

Yamapi tries not to narrow his eyes as he follows and nods in greeting to the group of people who are now staring at them.

“Sure!” one of the carolers answers, rushing to hand Jin a book. “We only have one left, though. You’ll have to share.”

“That’s fine,” Jin replies as he flips through the songs. “I know most of these anyway.”

The lady must be affected by Jin’s grin because her smile grows bigger and she reaches an arm out aimlessly to tap a man that Yamapi assumes is her husband. “Honey, don’t we have two more Santa hats for the newcomers?”

Her husband grunts and runs into the nearest house, completely unfazed by Jin. He returns a few minutes later with the hats, which Jin and Yamapi both pull on their heads and thank them for repeatedly.

Yamapi’s known the traditional English Christmas songs for years. He’s sang a few of them for work, heard them in movies, or listened to covers of them by western artists he likes. But none of that compares to right now, walking through a foreign neighborhood in the middle of the street with these complete strangers, belting out the popular traditional songs acapella.

And Jin, next to him, his voice standing out from the others even if it’s not that loud. Yamapi can hear it, and that’s all that matters. They lead into a song that he doesn’t know, something about stars and “do you hear what I hear?” and Yamapi falls silent as he listens to the vibrato in Jin’s voice and leans his head back to look at the sky.

One thing he likes about Arizona is that there are hardly ever any clouds. It’s a clear night, the orange moon in the east leaving the rest of the sky for the stars. Yamapi doesn’t know anything about constellations or planets, but there’s a sprinkle of sparkles spread out amongst the blackness and it’s beautiful. If angels really are stars, there are a lot of them watching over them tonight.

They walk through the entire neighborhood, close to an hour and a half of caroling songs about Santa Claus and the baby Jesus or even just winter. Yamapi thinks it’s odd to sing a song about snow when he doesn’t even need a jacket, but nobody else seems to mind.

When they get back to the entrance, they return the hats and song book and bow their heads in thanks. Jin blushes at the compliments on his voice, and they all wave good-bye before getting in the car and driving off.

“I think I get it now,” Yamapi says quietly.

Jin doesn’t reply, but Yamapi can feel his smile.

*

It’s not until they land in Tokyo on Christmas Eve that Yamapi really appreciates the warm temperature of the southwest United States. The sun is barely up, but he slept on the plane and has a long day of rehearsal for Music Station Super Live tonight.

“See you later,” he says to Jin at the airport, where he’s going straight to work. “I may not be home until after midnight, so Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” Jin replies, forcing a smile as he leaves in the opposite direction.

Work is enough to get his mind off of Jin, their two days together, and how he feels about it. The rest of NEWS is happy to see him and the remaining members of KAT-TUN as well, even if Yamapi can’t get the images of them on leashes out of his mind.

It’s the middle of the night when he gets out, hitching a ride with Ryo since he doesn’t have his car. There’s a huddled figure waiting for them, shivering and emitting white clouds of smoke with each breath.

“Jin?” Ryo calls first. “What are you doing?”

“I had to park all the way in the back,” Jin replies, his voice shaking from the cold. “I needed to catch Pi.”

“You could have called,” Yamapi says, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

His phone that is still turned off from their trip.

“Yeah,” Jin says knowingly. “Mine was shut off too. Our landlord has been trying to call us for two days.”

“What? Why?” Yamapi asks, starting to feel panicked despite being exhausted.

Jin scratches the back of his head nervously. “I, um, left the Christmas lights on and they kind of caught on fire.”

“What?!” Yamapi screams. He steps forward to grab Jin and shake him but Ryo holds him back.

“I didn’t mean to!” Jin yells back. “People leave their Christmas lights on all the time in the states! How would I think to turn them off?”

“I don’t know, logic?” Ryo replies sarcastically.

“What’s the damage?” Yamapi demands.

Jin doesn’t answer right away, biting his lip as he looks at the ground, and Yamapi shrugs out of Ryo’s grip and pushes Jin around towards the back of the parking lot. “You’re going to take me there and show me.”

Jin doesn’t budge. “We can’t go there. I couldn’t even go in to look. They have it all taped off. But I could see that it was all black inside. Landlord-san says that there may be salvageable items in our bedrooms, but not to count on it.”

Yamapi brings his hands to his face and mumbles, “I can’t believe this.”

“I guess you guys need a place to stay?” Ryo asks, his voice softer.

Jin gives him a grateful look. “Thanks, but I already went to my parents’. Mom says you’re welcome to stay with us too, Pi.”

That’s a hard choice, but Yamapi weighs Ryo’s cooking against Mama-chan’s and ends up riding shotgun to Jin yet again, only this time in Jin’s real car.

“Is it okay to go get your car tomorrow?” Jin asks. “I’m really tired. It’s been a long day.”

Yamapi starts to make a quip about actually _working_ all day, but figures that would be a bad idea. Instead he watches the familiar scenery whip by outside the window, commercial Christmas decorations that mean nothing here, and feels closer to Jin than ever before.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says, reaching over to pat Jin’s hand that rests on the gear shift.

“Thanks,” Jin replies. “I’m sorry.”

Yamapi leaves his hand there and Jin opens his fingers to accept Yamapi’s between them. It should feel weird, but it doesn’t – mostly comforting. Just like when they both climb into Jin’s old bed awhile later, it’s too small for two grown men but they’re not bothered by it, and somewhere in the early hours of the morning Jin rolls towards Yamapi and ends up in his arms.

When he feels Jin clutch at his shirt, he realizes it’s intentional. “We could have been in there, Pi.”

“Shh,” Yamapi whispers into the top of Jin’s head. “Don’t think about that.”

“Pin could have been there,” Jin goes on.

“Pin is with my mom,” Yamapi tells him. “She’s fine. Nobody got hurt. It’s all replaceable.”

“They said it spread really fast,” Jin says. “We both sleep really sound, Pi. By the time we woke up, it may have been too late to get out.”

Yamapi grabs a fistful of Jin’s hair and pulls hard, ignoring Jin’s painful whine. “I told you not to think about that.”

He can feel Jin’s pout against his chest. “Just because you say so doesn’t mean it will happen.”

Yamapi can’t think of anything to say to that, so he hugs Jin tighter and buries his face in Jin’s hair. They fall back asleep like that, and the sun is up when Yamapi wakes again with Jin curled up next to him.

“Maybe Santa came,” Jin mumbles.

“Stupid,” Yamapi teases, his voice much deeper and thick with sleep.

The smells of real breakfast waft past their noses, which both turn towards the door like dogs. They fall over each other to race into the kitchen, where Mama-chan is at the stove and Reio is sitting at the table fully dressed.

“Nice hair,” Reio says to both of them.

Jin snarls at him, but Yamapi reaches up to pat his hair down. “Hey, brat.”

Reio shakes his head at them. “I will never understand how you two are so successful across the world. If only your fans could see you like _this_.”

“Reio,” Mama-chan warns. “Don’t you have somewhere to go?”

“Yeah, I have a _date_ ,” Reio announces.

Jin feigns shock.

“I’m glad I have a sister,” Yamapi says as Reio leaves and they sit down wait for breakfast. Mama-chan brings them both coffee while they wait, and this is why she’s one of Yamapi’s most favorite people in the world.

After food and about a half a pot, Yamapi feels much more alive. He takes a shower and throws on some of his new clothes, then looks outside to see the ground covered in snow.

“We had a white Christmas after all,” he mumbles, laughing to himself as he thinks of the song.

Jin finishes his own shower and joins him, drying his hair as they stare out at the yard and fog up the window with their breaths. Yamapi writes his initials and Jin follows suit, then they stand there awkwardly as they both presumably think of how to connect them.

Finally Jin draws a big V, and Yamapi nods.

The next few hours consist of picking up Yamapi’s car, blatantly ignoring the blackened windows that are undoubtedly their apartment, and going shopping for necessities. It’s not nearly as fun as the first time, but they make up for it by dropping their purchases in the front door of Jin’s parents’ house and racing to play in the snow.

Yamapi can’t see Jin’s face hidden behind his scarf, but his eyes are wide and full of wonder. It’s enough to keep him outside past the point of freezing, until there is a passable snowman with a “silver” chain made out of grey rocks and an old pair of Aviators on its face.

They may be in their mid-twenties, but Mama-chan still fusses over them when they come in from the cold and practically forces hot cocoa down their throats. The sun sets just as early in Japan as it does in Arizona, and soon it is nighttime and the end of Christmas Day.

“I’m sorry I ruined Christmas for us,” Jin says quietly as they watch yet another holiday movie, thankfully with Japanese subtitles.

“No you didn’t,” Yamapi replies, leaning over to punch him again. This time, somehow, his head ends up on Jin’s shoulder.

He shakes with the force of Jin’s laughter. “I burned down our tree, Pi.”

“That doesn’t matter,” says Yamapi. “Someone special taught me that the most important part of Christmas is spending it with the ones you love.”

Jin doesn’t say anything, now or later, but Yamapi has already heard him loud and clear.

*

In the middle of the night, when he sneaks out for a glass of water, Yamapi finds the window with their initials and breathes on it until it’s visible.

The V becomes a heart.


End file.
